


bedsheets

by sinningpumpkin



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinningpumpkin/pseuds/sinningpumpkin
Summary: Illumi breaks four of his fingers when he finds out that Silva let Killua go.
Relationships: Illumi Zoldyck/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	bedsheets

Illumi breaks four of his fingers when he finds out that Silva let Killua go. He knows why, of course. There’s no real reason to keep him on such a tight leash when Illumi could, and would, reach into his skull and drag him back home when the time was right. But logic doesn’t stop him from turning and punching the wall with a sort of unrestrained rage they only allowed for Milluki. His knuckles crack and swell, skin splitting as the pain radiates up his arm in concentric circles. His mother reaches for him and he almost slaps her, still boiling with humiliating rage. He refuses first aid and stalks away from his parents.

He wanders the halls of the manor, searching for signs that Killua had ever even been there in the first place. He had been. Illumi tries to remember this. Even though he hadn’t been the one to bring Killua home. Even though he hadn’t been the one to punish him. Even though he hadn’t seen more than quick glimpses of him in the few weeks that he’d been here.

This search for evidence brings him to Killua’s room. He was generally tidy, but now, his room is a mess. His dresser drawers hang open, with clothing half pulled out of them and scattered across the floor. The bed is unmade and his closet doors stand open. The closet is empty of all the random junk he’d kept tucked away. The skateboard he never left home without is nowhere to be seen. 

Illumi stands in the doorway for a long time, staring at the last evidence of Killua’s visit. His hand throbs at his side, blood crusted at his knuckles. With a bit of focus, he can push the pain away, and usually he would. Four fingers are hardly enough to end a job after all. But he isn’t on the clock, so he lets it hurt. He enjoys the throb of feeling in his swollen hand with heavy eyes. 

He takes his first step into Killua’s room with the intention to clean up. Killua left in a hurry, but his room should be clean for…

Beside the bed, Illumi stares down at the rumpled sheets that somehow take the shape of his brother’s body. And instead of straightening out the wrinkles, he crawls into Killua’s shape.

After all, there’s no point in cleaning if he never comes back to Illumi. 

He twists his face into Killua’s pillow and inhales. It smells like him. His shampoo and the clean sweat of sleep. Illumi sucks in a rough breath, pushing his face deeper into the pillow as his mind hazes over with need. Already, Illumi misses him. He aches for Killua, shattered hand knotting in the sheets and knuckles oozing fresh blood as he sucks in slow, ragged breaths.

Killua. Killua. His name rings between his ears, and if he focuses hard enough, he can hear his own name in the shape of Killua’s voice. The tears come and he doesn’t try to stop them, lightheaded and cotton mouthed as he sobs into Killua’s pillow. 

He cries for Killua. For missing him, for worrying about him, for wanting him, needing him. The rage had been violent, but quick. This sorrow feels bone deep, knotted into his nerves as he silently begs for his Killua to come home. No one answers those pleas. He cries until he has a headache and the pillow beneath his cheek is cold and wet.

His parents must be looking for him, but don’t think to find him here.

Even with pain throbbing behind his eyes, and his fingers now completely immobile, he doesn’t climb out of Killua’s bed. He rolls over onto his belly and presses his face into a part of the pillow that hasn’t gone wet with his tears, into the fresh smell of Killua.

The sadness abates. His heart pounds in his ears. His nose and mouth are full of the smell of his brother, sweet and young and familiar. A sharp inhale and his hips press against the bed. Warmth bleeds through him, serving as a welcome distraction from the pain, the tear tracks still drying on his cheeks. His hips hitch, the sheets bunching under his hips and knotting up to serve as something to rut against.

His head spins, mouth parted and dripping a new spot of wetness into Killua’s pillow. For the moment, there isn’t any pain or loneliness, only the smell of Killua and the sweet pleasure that bleeds through his veins. There’s no desperation, there’s barely even any desire--just comfort. With his eyes squeezed shut and his body curled and humping against the bed, he can almost imagine that Killua is still home. That Killua is still next to him, watching and comforting just like he always does.

Illumi almost starts crying again.

Pleasure and sorrow knot together inside of him, cranking tighter and tighter--until it snaps. For a brief moment, just as that wave inside of him crests and breaks, he can feel Killua. He can feel that piece of himself lodged in Killua, a strand of fate stretching between them. Illumi’s eyes are wet again when he dirties his pants in his younger brother’s bed. 

His mind is hazy for another moment or two, moments where he can tangle his fingers in that cord and tug, just to feel the resistance on the other end. Proof that out there, Killua is still his. Illumi just has to wait for him. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was pretty much just a little writing exercise for myself to write some horny sad (which im not very good at) and to write some flowery horny bits without writing cock (which i love) anyways, i hope you liked it!
> 
> [come be nasty with me on twit](https://twitter.com/pumpkinnnie)


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